“Denver, he’ll be glad to take it for y’u, Miss Nora. He’s real obliging,” offered Mac, generously.
“I’ve been in the house all day, so I need a walk. I thought perhaps one of you gentlemen—” Miss Nora looked from one to the other of them with deep innocence.
“Sure, I’ll go along and carry it. Just as Mac says, I’ll be real pleased to go,” said Denver, hastily.
Mac felt he had been a trifle precipitate in his assumption that Nora did not intend to go herself. Lee Ming had established a laundry some half mile from the ranch, and the way thereto lay through most picturesque shadow and moonlight. The foreman had conscientious scruples against letting Denver escort her down such a veritable lovers’ lane of romantic scenery.
“I don’t know as y’u ought to go out in the night air with that cold, Denver. I’d hate a heap to have y’u catch pneumony. It don’t seem to me I’d be justified in allowin’ y’u to,” said the foreman, anxiously.
“You’re that thoughtful, Mac. But I expect mebbe a little saunter with Miss Nora will do my throat good. We’ll walk real slow, so’s not to wear out my strength.”
“Big, husky fellows like y’u are awful likely to drop off with pneumony. I been thinkin’ I got some awful good medicine that would be the right stuff for y’u. It’s in the drawer of my wash-stand. Help yourself liberal and it will surely do y’u good. Y’u’ll find it in a bottle.”
“I’ll bet it’s good medicine, Mac. After we get home I’ll drop around. In the washstand, y’u said?”
“I hate to have y’u take such a risk,” Mac tried again. “There ain’t a bit of use in y’u exposing yourself so careless. Y’u take a hot footbath and some of that medicine, Denver, then go right straight to bed, and in the mo’ning y’u’ll be good as new. Honest, y’u won’t know yourself.”
“Y’u got the best heart, Mac.”